


Unconventional

by taradiane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Mpreg, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 17:38:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1436974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taradiane/pseuds/taradiane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'It was just the result of yet another hasty, poorly thought out decision that he'd made, albeit a wee bit tipsy at the time, that was going to have eighteen years worth of consequences. A consequence that had a name, and ten tiny fingers and toes, but a consequence nonetheless.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unconventional

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jamie2109](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamie2109/gifts).



> Written in October 2007 for hd_inspired's mpreg fic exchange.
> 
> Note that the mpreg aspect of this story is in the past - neither Harry nor Draco are pregnant at the time this story takes place.

"Harry, Hogwarts is on the Floo for you. Sounds urgent."

Harry looked up from the mammoth pile of paperwork in front of him. Scroll after scroll of the Dolohov investigation that was finally finished lay scattered across his desk, the bastard having finally been taken down and currently awaiting trial in a moldy Azkaban cell.

"McGonagall makes everything sound urgent, Seamus, you know that."

"It's not McGonagall, it's Hermione."

Without another word, Harry bolted from his desk, several pages of parchment fluttering to the floor in his wake as he rushed to the Floo two offices down from his own. Hermione was Hogwarts' resident Healer, Madam Pomfrey having retired five years previously, and had only contacted him directly once before. His daughter, Narcissa, had broken her wrist after tripping on one of the moving staircases during her first week at school. Any other instance of illness was usually handled with an owl to the parents to notify them of their child's condition, and that was all that was typically required in such minor cases.

"What's happened?" Harry asked, his knees hitting the floor as he stared into the green fire.

"Calm down, Harry," she started, her tone soothing, "Narcissa will be fine."

"Well, what is it, then?" Harry asked, irritation now clouding his voice at having been interrupted for apparently no good reason.

"She is ill, but it's nothing that I can't handle. She is rather insistent about seeing you and Draco, however. She's been asking for a week, now-"

"A week? Hermione, she's been in the hospital wing for _a week_ and you're just now telling me?" he shouted at her.

"It's just a bad bout of stomach flu, Harry. Honestly, it's nothing to worry about," Hermione tried to reassure him.

"Bad enough for her to be asking for her parents?" he shot back. "Narcissa's not like that, you know how fiercely independent she is-"

"Are you coming or not?" Hermione interrupted, becoming impatient at Harry's brusque tone and not in the mood to argue.

"Of course I'm coming," he grumbled, standing up and brushing soot from his trousers.

"I haven't called Draco yet," Hermione said, hesitantly.

"I'll tell him."

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

"What do you mean she's in the _hospital wing_? Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Because I just found out, that's why."

Draco stood there in his lab, hands on hips, glaring.

"Oh, and of course they'd come to you first. Harry Potter, their favourite-"

"Would you cut the bullshit already? I'm so tired of you whinging as though this is a popularity contest," Harry replied, rolling his eyes. "I'll meet you outside the front gates in fifteen minutes."

" _Fine_."

Harry turned to leave, not noticing Draco's wounded stare as he shut the door behind him.

Draco let out a beleaguered sigh, wiping his hands on the black dragon-hide apron that he used when working with especially caustic ingredients. He extinguished the fires beneath the numerous cauldrons that lay across the countertops, and Apparated home to change clothes.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

"You're late."

"Some of us work," Harry said off-handedly, ignoring Draco's sneer at the deliberate insult to his profession and walking toward the large gates that led to the school. "I had to hand my files off in case I end up taking a few days off."

"God forbid you give up your precious calling of saving the world for your daughter's sake," Draco retorted, catching up with Harry's long strides and making sure to stay ahead. "But then, she's never been your top priority anyway," he continued, looking over his shoulder as the gates parted, "so I'm not sure why it would matter now-"

Draco's voice faded at the look on Harry's face. It had been a long time since he'd seen Harry look so hurt, as if he'd just been slapped across the face. He stood frozen, mouth agape, just looking at Draco as if he'd just been cursed.

"Potter-"

But Harry was already quickly walking away, practically running toward the castle doors.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

"I'm sorry that I-"

"You're not sorry for anything, Malfoy," Harry interrupted him, the black leather boots of his Auror uniform slapping against the stone floor of the corridor. "You never are. So don't waste your breath."

Draco opted not to push his luck, knowing that he'd already pushed it too far with what he said outside at the gates. That particular argument had always been a sore spot between them, yet Draco couldn't help but poke and prod at it whenever they fought, which was often.

"I'm going to walk in there, put on a smile for our daughter, and if you want to act like the pretentious arse that you _usually_ are," Harry spat, "be my guest. It won't be my fault, and the only one it'll hurt is her."

He swung open the hospital wing doors and headed over to the large white curtained divider that hid Hermione's desk, not bothering to see if Draco would follow.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

"She's tired and weak, and can't seem to shake whatever bug she's caught," Hermione began, pulling her hair behind her shoulders and securing it with an elastic band. "I've run every diagnostic that I can think of, but she just isn't getting any better. She only keeps down one meal a day, usually lunch, but then another bout of nausea comes along and she's sick the rest of the day. It's the most bizarre thing that I've ever seen."

Hermione leaned forward, resting both elbows on her desk and looking exhausted as she closed the file, _Narcissa Potter-Malfoy_ printed neatly along the edge.

"Is she dehydrated?" Draco asked quietly, his brow furrowed with worry.

"No, we're able to keep her hydrated, but I'm concerned nonetheless. She's losing weight as well, nearly half a stone so far, and with her already slight frame, I don't want to see her lose any more."

"And you've no idea what's causing it or why it isn't going away on its own?" Harry asked.

"None whatsoever. Just when we think she's getting better, it starts all over again," Hermione replied. "It's the oddest thing," she added, her lips thinning as she tapped the edge of the quill against them.

"What was that look for?" Draco leaned forward, his eyes narrowed.

"What look?"

" _That_ look. The one that says you're thinking something but don't want to say it."

"Draco, lay off," Harry said sternly before Hermione could reply.

"No, if she's got some idea about why our daughter won't get better, I want to hear it!"

"Stop it, would you?" Hermione sighed. "I've been up for nearly two days straight, and I really don't have the patience to listen to you two go at each other's throats again."

Harry fiddled with the edge of his Ministry issued robes, scowling, but not looking at his friend or Draco.

"What were the arrangements this past summer, if I may ask?"

"It was Potter's turn, and she was with me the final two weeks before school started," Draco replied coolly, knowing exactly what Hermione was referring to.

"How did she seem?"

"She was fine," Harry answered, still not looking up.

"Potter."

Harry ignored the warning tone in Draco's voice and looked up at Hermione, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Harry, was she okay this past summer? Not just physically, but…"

"I had to leave her with Molly and Arthur a few times because of work. She wasn't too happy about that."

"You WHAT?"

Draco was on his feet now, glaring indignantly at Harry.

"It was only for a few days each time! Don't pop an artery over it!"

"Why the HELL didn't you contact ME to take her?"

"Boys-"

"I'm her father! And yet you chose to ask THEM to look after her instead of ME? You arse!"

"Shut up, both of you, or I'll have you both thrown out!" Hermione whispered furiously, standing with both hands planted firmly on the desk, leaning forward and glaring at them. "I have other students in this hospital wing right now that really don't need to listen to you two bicker like schoolboys, one of which happens to be your daughter."

Harry and Draco both shifted uncomfortably, looking chastised though still obviously angry.

"Sit here for five minutes until I come back, try and _grow up_ , and then you can see Narcissa. I'm not going to cause her any more stress by inflicting the two of you on her while you're behaving like imbeciles," Hermione said as she walked around her desk, heading toward the locked door of the medicinal potions room. "She needs her parents right now, and that doesn't include you throwing insults at each other over her head."

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

"Don't wake her."

"I wasn't going to," Harry glared in response, sitting down on the chair next to Narcissa's bed.

Draco walked around to the opposite side and pulled the chair from the next bed over, sitting down with a heavy sigh.

Neither of them talked nor looked at each other, keeping their attentions focused on the small frame of their twelve year-old daughter who lay sleeping between them. Her long, strawberry blonde hair was fanned out on the pillow beneath her head, and the white sheets against her already pale skin only made her look more frail.

Harry took off his glasses and set them on the bedside table, rubbing his tired eyes and debating on how mad Draco would be if he decided to take a quick nap - or if he'd even care.

"I can't believe you called the Weasleys."

"Don't start."

"I would have _never_ done that to you," Draco practically spat.

"Is that so?" Harry challenged.

Draco said nothing, trying to reel in his anger and the desire to grab Harry by the collar and slap some sense into him.

"Why would you do that?" he finally asked after several moments of uncomfortable silence.

"You have to ask?" Harry deadpanned.

"Yes, I do."

"Maybe because I didn't feel like dealing with your accusations of what a horrible parent I am," he shot back.

Draco didn't know how to reply, knowing full well exactly what Harry's loaded words meant.

"Look, about what I said earlier-" Draco started, still frustrated but finding some of his anger dissipating at the hurt and guarded look on Harry's face.

"Quit while you're ahead, Malfoy."

"I didn't mean it. You know that," Draco said softly.

"Do I?"

Harry's sharp gaze bore into him, and Draco looked away. There was no use in trying to explain. They were long past the point where words could fix anything between them, anyway. All that they could do was try and get along as best they could for the sake of their daughter.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

_"Malfoy?"_

_Draco stood on the doorstep of number twelve Grimmauld Place, shivering in his thin cloak and soaked to the skin from the heavy downpour._

_"Are you going to let me in?"_

_"What? Oh, yeah," Harry mumbled, stepping aside and opening the door further. "You can, um…here, just give me your cloak and-" He could hear Draco's teeth chattering from the cold. "Christ, Malfoy, are you trying to catch your death?"_

_"I wish," Draco said under his breath._

_"Come on. I'll start a bath," Harry said, ignoring Draco's muttering. "I'm sure whatever you need can wait until you're warm and dry._

_Draco didn't reply, but followed Harry up the stairs._

_"I didn't expect to see you anytime soon," Harry said, looking back over his shoulder._

_"After our incredibly brilliant shag, I just couldn't get you out of my mind, darling," Draco answered sarcastically._

_Harry stopped at the top of the stairs, waiting for Draco to climb the last few._

_"That was a mistake," he said softly, looking Draco in the eyes without blinking._

_"So you said at the time."_

_Harry looked away, not wanting to discuss it further as he led Draco to the bathroom down the hall. He opened the door, lit the sconces on the walls, and pulled two towels down from the shelf next to the sink, placing them on the counter._

_"I'm sure that you can manage from here," he said, turning to leave._

_Draco put his arm out, desperately blocking Harry's exit and determined to say what he needed to say before he lost his nerve._

_"I'm pregnant."_

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

Hermione stood at the corner entryway of the section that kept Narcissa separated from any other students, a precaution taken on the chance that whatever the young girl had was contagious. Hermione had kept a close eye on her from the first day of her second year, knowing that the summer would have been difficult.

She watched Harry and Draco, both of them hovering over Narcissa's bed, waiting for her to stir. She could see what looked like the start of a whispered argument, but opted not to intervene just yet. As immature as they could be, she knew that they were careful not to fight directly in front of their daughter. It saddened her to see them so unhappy, and so obviously needing the other, but neither with the courage to admit it.

Harry had come to Hermione late one night during Narcissa's first year, shortly after the broken wrist incident, and told her that Draco was moving out of Grimmauld Place. Their relationship, if you could call it that, was never conventional. They were parents to their daughter and that was all. They interacted and behaved more like teammates than anything else, the shared goal of rearing their child keeping them unified.

The friendship that had developed between the two hadn't surprised Hermione, but the fact that it hadn't developed further was definitely unexpected. They got on well enough by all accounts, and she had witnessed several moments of affectionate intimacy throughout the years gone by - moments that, to casual observers, would seem inconsequential. But Hermione held Harry especially close to her heart, and she wanted all of the things for him that he missed out on while growing up with the Dursleys, and during his own years at Hogwarts where it seemed every moment was spent on the quest to stop Voldemort.

She wanted Harry to find love. The kind of love that consumes your entire being, sinks its claws into the soul and doesn't let go.

He got that with the birth of his daughter, but now Hermione wanted him to find the other piece of the puzzle, and she thought that he could have found it with Draco. When Harry came to her, confused and hurt, to tell her that Draco was moving out, she sat with him all night, trying to help him fix what neither of them knew was broken.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

_"He said that there wasn't a point to it anymore."_

_"Point to what, exactly?"_

_"Being there. Living with us - me."_

_Hermione's heart broke at the look in Harry's eyes, looking so much like the little boy that she saw trying so hard not to break down while in Molly Weasley's arms on the night that Cedric Diggory was murdered._

_"I mean, I know that things have been a tense lately, but I just…I just thought that we'd hit a bit of a rough patch, you know?"_

_"He didn't say anything else?"_

_"Just that he'd sacrificed enough of his own life, and with Narcissa being at Hogwarts, he could try and get some of it back."_

_She stood and moved to the opposite side of her desk to sit next to him, pulling her chair around and rubbing small circles at the top of his back as he slumped over._

_"How have things been tense? Have you been fighting?"_

_"A lot, yeah, but I didn't know that he was miserable," Harry answered, letting out a sign of exasperation. "He seemed fine!"_

_"Well, what have you been fighting about, exactly?"_

_"My job, mainly. Other things. He hates Olivia."_

_"You're still dating her?"_

_"Technically, yeah, but…I think it's about over and done with. I haven't even spoken to her in over a week. It just," he started, waving his hand about nonchalantly, "didn't work out, I guess."_

_"Oh," Hermione replied, not quite sure if she should offer condolences or not, considering his off-handed dismissal._

_"We only went out a few times, but he wasn't even polite to her when I brought her to the house."_

_Hermione kept her thought to herself about why she suspected Draco may have been upset._

_"How am I going to tell our daughter?" he asked, looking over at her and biting his lip, failure and shame coming off of him in waves._

_"She'll be all right, Harry. She's a big girl, now."_

_"He said that he's been wanting to do this for ages, that he only waited until Narcissa started Hogwarts to make it easier on her, and that she wouldn't notice the difference as much since she'd be here most of the year."_

_He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, pulling his glasses off and letting them fall from his fingertips to the desk._

_"How could I have been so blind? I thought that we were friends. Why didn't I see this coming?"_

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

"Daddy?"

Harry and Draco both turned their attentions to the frail child lying between them, Draco's unwelcome apology and Harry's dismissal quickly forgotten.

"We're here, sweetpea," Harry said, brushing the soft strands of her strawberry blonde fringe from her forehead.

"How are you feeling?" Draco asked, taking her hand in his and raising it to his mouth, kissing her fingertips.

Narcissa tried to sit up, but both Harry and Draco's hands on her shoulders kept her still.

"Okay," she said quietly, fiddling with the edge of the sheet with her free hand. Draco recognised this as a nervous habit that she'd picked up from Harry, wondering what it was that she was fretting over.

"I'll be better now that you're both here."

"We'll be here as long as you need us," Draco answered, moving to pour her a glass of water from the bedside carafe.

"Hermione is trying to find something to make you feel better," Harry added, "and we're going to stay here until she does, okay?"

Narcissa smiled weakly at them, shaking her head at the offered glass.

"You need to drink something. Just a couple of sips, okay?" Draco gently prodded, motioning for Harry to elevate her head.

"Just promise me that you'll stay."

Harry and Draco looked at each other, the words unspoken and hovering between them, both of them knowing how unusual this behaviour was for her. Even as a toddler, she was fiercely independent and resisted their attempts at mollycoddling. For something as simple as stomach flu to have caused her to reach out in such a way only made them that much more concerned about what was really affecting their daughter.

"I don't want you to go," she said, watching their silent communication.

"We're not going anywhere," Harry said softly, cupping her cheek.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

Hermione came in, potions in hand, and a tray of food floating behind her, following her into the makeshift curtained-off room.

"Up for a bit of soup, Narcissa?" she asked, setting down the flasks on the bedside table.

"Um, I think so, sure."

Draco arranged her pillows as Narcissa slowly raised herself, Harry supporting her shoulders as she sat up and let the tray balance itself on her legs.

"I ordered you boys a few sandwiches," Hermione said, uncorking the flasks for Narcissa. "They should be up shortly."

Harry and Draco both muttered their thanks and watched as Narcissa swallowed her prescribed potions. Hermione cautioned that her patient needed lots of rest, and warned that she should be tucked under the covers once she was finished eating and that neither Harry or Draco had better be caught keeping her awake unnecessarily.

With their own trays arriving shortly thereafter, the three of them sat in comfortable silence to eat their meals, Harry and Draco making sure that their daughter was eating as much as she should.

"Do you want to try a bit of bread, pumpkin?" Harry asked, tearing off a corner from his ham sandwich and offering it to her.

"Maybe she shouldn't."

Harry looked up at Draco, barely suppressing a glare.

"If Hermione thought that her stomach was up to handling bread, I'm sure that there would have been a slice of it on her tray."

"Dad-"

"It's just a small piece of bread, _Draco_. It's not as if I'm offering her cake."

"I'm only suggesting that we follow the _Healer's_ instructions."

"Papa-"

"I think that I can take care of her just as well as-"

The sound of glass shattering interrupted the increasingly heated exchange between Harry and Draco, and both turned to look at Narcissa. Tears were beginning to stream down her face, her eyes glued to the bowl that now lay broken on the stone floor, fingers clutching the spoon in her hand.

"I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, darling," Draco soothed, walking briskly to the other side of the bed and nearly shoving Harry to the side as he bent down to begin picking up the large pieces of broken china.

"What's happened?" Hermione asked, her head peeking around the corner, brow furrowed in concern.

"Nothing," Harry said, "just an accident. We'll get it cleaned up."

"There are bed linens in that side cupboard over there if you need them."

"Thanks," Draco said from his crouched position on the floor. "We'll manage from here. Could you have another bowl of soup sent up?"

"Of course."

Hermione disappeared behind the curtain once more, and Draco continued picking up the pieces of the shattered soup bowl. Harry walked over toward the cupboard where the extra linens were stored, and pulled out a fresh set of sheets and an extra blanket. He could hear Draco talking to Narcissa in hushed tones, trying his best to hear what he was saying to her.

"It's okay, don't worry, Narcissa," Draco whispered, "we'll get this cleaned up for you."

"I'm so sorry, Dad," she sniffled, choking back more tears.

"Not at all, pet. You inherited any and all clumsiness from your Papa," Draco drawled with a smile, looking up at Harry.

Harry took Draco's unspoken plea to help lighten the mood.

"Yeah, you know about all of the dishes I've broken at home. Your dad here has probably had to replace, what, four or five sets of dinner plates now?" Harry added, winking playfully at Narcissa.

Another tray holding a second bowl of soup appeared on the bedside table. Draco stood up, gingerly carrying the fragments of broken porcelain toward the rubbish bin in the corner while Harry started unfolding the fresh linens.

"How about you hop in that bed over there while I fix this one up for you, hmm?" Harry asked her, pulling back the soiled duvet and reaching for her hand to help her out of bed.

He frowned at seeing Narcissa without the layers of blankets covering her naturally petite body. This flu had apparently taken its toll, and the half stone that Hermione said she'd dropped in the past week really showed. He glanced over at Draco, and saw him frowning as well.

"Let's try and get a bit more of this soup eaten before you get back into bed," Draco said to her, sitting down on the bed opposite her own and pulling her onto his lap.

Harry directed the tray over to the other side of the room, acknowledged Draco's thanks with a nod, and began stripping the sheets off her bed.

"I'm sure the house elves can take care of that, Harry."

"I don't mind doing it," he answered, focused on his task.

"If you wait until we're done over here, I can help," Draco said quietly as he watched Narcissa eat another spoonful of soup. "Your sandwich is getting cold."

Harry stopped what he was doing and looked over at him, surprised at the genial tone in Draco's voice - something that he hadn't heard in a long time.

"So is yours," he replied softly, "You finish up with her, and once I'm done, I'll go down to the kitchens and find us something more substantial."

"That would be nice, thank you."

"You're welcome," Harry said, not looking up but allowing himself a small smile.

It reminded him of when their arguments used to be easily solved - a courteous gesture or two acting as olive branch and apologies on both sides.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

_"Are you almost ready?"_

_"Two more minutes," Harry replied, tucking an extra bib into the front pocket of Narcissa's nappy bag. "Go downstairs and fetch her sippy cup, will you? The one with the unicorns?"_

_Harry watched as Draco nodded and disappeared from the doorway, then turned to the fidgety two-year-old standing up in her crib._

_"Are you excited to go to the zoo, poppet?"_

_"Unicorn!" she shouted, pointing to the stuffed animal that lay in the corner of her room._

_"No, there won't be any unicorns there," he said to her, pausing to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. "Maybe they'll have some horses there, though, and those are very nearly unicorns."_

_"Except for the lack of a magical horn," Draco added as he walked back into the nursery._

_"Shush, you," Harry laughed as he took the proffered cup._

_Draco walked over to the crib and lifted his daughter up, settling her against his hip as she lay her head on his shoulder. He watched Harry pack up the last of her things, the large gray tweed bag nearly bursting at the seams._

_"Have I mentioned that I can't wait until she's potty trained?"_

_"Not for an hour, at least," Draco smirked._

_"Yeah, well, I really can't."_

_"Says the man who hasn't changed a nappy in two days."_

_"Hey, I offered!"_

_"You've been busy," Draco replied, his tone suddenly serious._

_Harry zipped up the bag, hefting it off of the changing table and hoisting it on his shoulder with the wide black strap. He turned toward Draco, and watched silently as he toyed with the tiny red ribbon that held back Narcissa's soft curls._

_"I'm sorry about that. Exams are coming up, and-"_

_"It's okay," Draco interrupted quietly, decidedly not looking Harry in the eyes._

_"Just two more weeks, and the worst is over," Harry said with a sad smile._

_Harry knew that the past month had been harder for Draco, his own Auror training taking up most of his free time but knowing full well that taking care of a toddler was more difficult than dodging hexes in a padded room - at least, it was in his book. It had been fifteen months since he first entered the Auror program, and he had less than a month before finally earning his badge. It was a decision that had been made since before he'd left Hogwarts, and Draco's re-appearance in his life only solidified his determination, especially since he now had a child to protect._

_Draco had seemed hesitant at first, but brooked no real argument with Harry's choice of career, especially since he had to put his own on indefinite hold, and wouldn't be starting for quite some time. Draco had underestimated how his level of worry would fester and grow, however, each time that Harry walked out the door._

_Narcissa was a full-time job, and he couldn't understand how any single parent managed to get on without losing their sanity. Constant supervision, piles of laundry, nappy changes, keeping Narcissa entertained enough to keep her out of trouble, dirty dishes - he couldn't manage all of it without Draco, and he was sure that Draco felt the same._

_They both walked downstairs - Draco to grab the packed lunches that Harry had made earlier that morning, and Harry to grab Narcissa's pram from the front closet - and then headed out the front to the modest car that they'd purchased two years earlier._

_The drive to the zoo was spent in uneasy silence, Narcissa happily preoccupied with her newest doll as she sat fastened in her car seat._

_"Draco?"_

_There was no answer from the passenger seat._

_"Look," Harry began with a sigh, "I know you've been pulling most of the weight around here lately, but training is nearly done, and then I'll be on a regular schedule and not studying for exams all the time."_

_Draco looked at him sideways and suppressed a sneer._

_"Is that how you think it's really going to be? The bad guys don't operate on a nine-to-five schedule, Potter."_

_"Meaning?"_

_"Meaning that you're going to be gone more than you think," Draco said, turning to look at him. "You're Harry Potter. They aren't going to have you behind a desk filling out forms and fetching tea. You're going to be…more involved than that."_

_Harry pulled up into the car park of the London Zoo, and cut the engine._

_"Is this about me getting hurt?" he asked softly, not wanting Narcissa to hear the conversation even though she wouldn't understand it._

_Draco didn't respond._

_"There's nothing that can happen that can't be healed, Draco."_

_Draco did look at him now, teeth clenched as he opened the car door._

_"Is that so?"_

_Draco got out of the car, slamming the door shut as Harry undid his safety belt and watched Draco open the back door to wrangle Narcissa from her seat._

_"Draco-"_

_"Later," he shot back, his tone telling Harry that the discussion was over._

_Harry locked the car and walked with Draco and Narcissa to the ticket booth, running through all the reasons as to why Draco might suddenly have a problem with his chosen career. He thought that Draco was fine with it, not that he needed Draco's permission or approval considering the whole 'separate lives' clause of their agreement, but it bothered him nonetheless that there was this tension between them._

_Starting on the green trail that led visitors around the entirety of the zoo, Harry and Draco stopped at every exhibit and let Narcissa have her fill of giraffes, monkeys, and penguins. They stopped at the playground to set up their homemade picnic and rest up before tackling the rest of the zoo, and Harry decided to clear the air of whatever was between them, tired of Narcissa being the only one talking to him._

_"I don't want this to be a problem, Draco," he said, fanning out the blanket before laying it on the ground._

_"Little late for that now," Draco replied, setting down the basket and getting Narcissa situated._

_"We talked about this before," Harry sighed, "and you said that you were fine with it."_

_"Forget it. It's your life."_

_For reasons unknown, Harry felt a stab of hurt deep in his gut at that answer._

_"Maybe, but it involves you, too."_

_Draco placed a plate full of finger foods in front of their daughter, fastening her bib at the back of her neck._

_"If something happens to you, Narcissa will pay the ultimate price," he finally answered, pulling out the sandwiches and crisps that Harry had packed. "She's already paying, if you ask me."_

_"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, shocked._

_"You're never around, and when you are, you've got your nose in a book or sleeping," Draco replied quietly, tossing a sandwich in Harry's direction. "She misses you."_

_Harry reached out to cup his daughter's cheek, his thumb swiping affectionately across her nose as she gave him a toothy grin._

_"Apple, Papa?" she asked, standing up and walking the short distance between them, falling into his lap and shoving a wedge of sliced fruit between his lips._

_Harry chewed thoughtfully, thinking back on the previous weeks and wondering if Draco was right. His final weeks of training had kept him away from home more than usual, and he'd never studied for an exam as hard as he had for this one. Being warned by Kingsley Shacklebolt that it was an absolute monster of a test and those without top marks would be dismissed without a second glance had given him a newfound determination._

_"I'll do better," he finally said._

_Draco simply shrugged, focusing on his own meal and looking at the families around them._

_"Draco."_

_"I heard you."_

_Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat, his eyes downcast and not noticing the intense look that Draco was giving him._

_"Here," Draco said, holding out a chocolate frog, "I grabbed these before we left."_

_"My favourite," Harry mumbled, taking the colourful packet._

_"I know."_

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

Draco propped his feet up on the end of his daughter's bed, leaning back and trying to get comfortable. His back was aching from sitting there for nearly five hours straight, and he desperately wanted to sleep. They'd arrived at Hogwarts just before lunch, and spent the day both talking to Hermione about Narcissa's mysterious illness and throwing out caustic barbs for no other reason than to hurt each other. There was a bit of a truce between them after the broken bowl incident, but it was short lived after they got into an argument after dinner about why Harry had never wanted house elves at Grimmauld Place.

Neither of them saw the tears streaming silently down Narcissa's face as she cried herself to sleep.

It was just past midnight, and Harry had taken up residence on one of the two spare beds in the makeshift room. They'd agreed to take turns keeping watch over Narcissa during the night, neither of them wanting her to wake up in the middle of the night, sick and being too stubborn to ask for help to the bathroom.

Draco looked over at him, taking advantage of Harry's unguarded state to study the changes in his face. He secretly wished that his absence from Grimmauld Place would have caused enough strain to show on Harry's face - stress lines around the eyes and forehead, maybe, or creases from a frown around his mouth - but he saw nothing. Harry was as handsome as he always was, wild dark hair and those brilliant green eyes that he'd inherited from his mother, and that Narcissa had inherited from him.

Aside from her eyes and the reddish cast of her mostly blonde hair, little Narcissa was all Malfoy. Draco sometimes caught himself staring at her while she sat reading a book, or toying with one of her trinkets to pass the time. She looked so much like her namesake, from her heart-shaped face to her pert little nose, that Draco sometimes found himself doing a double-take when she'd rush past an open doorway or ran into a room. He missed his mother dearly, the loss sometimes overwhelming, particularly at Christmas, but got some comfort from the fact that his only daughter inherited her delicate beauty.

Stifling a yawn, Draco rose from the chair to take a few turns around the room to keep from falling asleep. He'd let Harry sleep for another hour before waking him, and maybe they could manage not to get into yet another asinine argument.

"Draco?"

He turned toward the curtained doorway and saw Hermione standing there, no longer in her white Healer robes but wrapped up tightly in a thick, dark blue cotton bathrobe. He put his finger to his lips to quiet her, and she motioned for him to follow as she turned back toward her office.

"What's wrong?"

"I just wanted to talk to you about something," she said, sitting down in one of the high-backed velvet chairs near the window.

"Can you keep it brief?" Draco asked, sitting in the matching chair opposite her. "I want to be there if she wakes up and needs something."

"There's a monitoring spell on her bed. I'll know if she wakes up."

"Oh."

Hermione sat across from him, her legs curled up beneath her, and picked up one of the two cups of hot cocoa that Draco hadn't noticed on the table between them. She gestured for him to take the other cup and he reached for it, letting it warm his hands. He could feel her studying him, and it was starting to make him feel awkward. He and Hermione were friendly enough to one another, but she would always be Harry's friend in his mind, and he hadn't had much contact with her since he'd left Harry the previous year.

"Are you just going to stare at me all night, or are you going to get to the point?" he finally asked, his tone neutral.

"What happened between you and Harry?"

Draco didn't hide his shock at the abruptness of her question.

"That's rather personal, don't you think?"

"I already heard it from Harry, but I'd like to hear it from you."

"And why is that?"

"Because I, unlike our Harry, figured out long ago that the little arrangement that you two cooked up about living separate lives while raising Narcissa was never going to work, and I'm curious about what made you finally realise that, too."

Draco's anger rose immediately, and he set his half-empty cup down with a little more force than necessary, the sound of it hitting the glass saucer ringing throughout the ward.

" _That_ is none of your business, Granger," he said between clenched teeth, standing up and turning to leave.

"I think that your separation is making Narcissa sick," she said quietly, just before he reached the doorway.

Draco stopped, his feet frozen to the spot as he turned to look at her.

"I've tested for every possibility - food allergies, stomach flu, even ulcers," Hermione continued, not breaking her gaze. "I think she's literally made herself sick because you and Harry aren't living together, and after spending her first summer with this separation, it's too much for her to handle emotionally."

"That's a complete load of bollocks," Draco shot back, walking toward her. "Narcissa understands perfectly well that Harry and I were never married-"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that."

"Listen, Granger," he started, his voice rising, "how Harry and I live our lives is our business. Your _job_ is to make our daughter well, so keep your nose where it belongs."

"Going to continue the lie, then?" she asked casually, looking up at him and ignoring his glare.

"You don't know anything," Draco finally answered, but he slumped back into the chair and ran his fingers through his hair.

Hermione knew at that moment that she'd broken through, and she wasn't above using this to her advantage. Draco sat across from her, head in his hands as he looked at the stone floor. With her wand tucked up her sleeve, she used the opportunity to silently cast her spell. It was something she used often to monitor certain beds in the ward if she had an ill or injured student that she needed to keep a closer watch on. The spell could also work in reverse, although she'd never had cause to use it until now. A variation on the same premise that the Weasley twins used to create their extendable ears, it would allow her conversation with Draco to be heard in the next room over - the room where Harry currently lay sleeping, though not for much longer.

"Maybe if you tell me what happened, we can work out a way to make Narcissa accept what's happened to the only family that she's ever known."

Draco said nothing, nor did he look up at her as she continued.

"Children are resilient, but stress can manifest in so many different ways. It's not at all uncommon for a trauma-" and Draco did look up at her now, "-to affect a person this way, especially someone as young as Narcissa."

"Trauma? Harry and I haven't-"

"Look at it from her perspective for a moment," Hermione interrupted, her tone matter-of-fact.

She was also aware, thanks to her spell, that Harry was rousing from sleep and would be hearing every word from this point forward.

"You and Harry are the only parents that she's ever known. You two agreed before she was even born that you would maintain separate lives, but live under the same roof. She's lived for twelve years with two parents who eat together, do the grocery shopping, take care of household chores, and probably even bicker like a married couple about inconsequential things."

Draco sneered, but didn't refute her words.

"Does she know you're not married? Of course she does, but those are just words to a child. Harry has never brought a date into your home, so she's not even aware that he has romantic interests aside from what she wishes he had with you. And you, Draco, haven't dated at all."

"How did you-"

"Harry told me on the night that he came over to tell me that you were 'leaving him'. Odd choice of words, don't you think, considering that you were never together?"

"Stop, Granger," Draco said wearily, but made no move to leave.

"In her eyes, you two are as good as married. Maybe you had every good intention of maintaining separate lives for her sake, but it wasn't separate enough. Aside from the fact that you and Harry don't sleep in the same bed, you two are the same as every other set of parents that she knows, and now you aren't together anymore. It's just as damaging as if you two _were_ married and decided to divorce."

"And what makes you think that you know my daughter better than me?"

"I don't, Draco, but I can see things that you can't, both as an objective third party and as her Healer." Draco looked over at her, unspoken worry and regret coming off of him in waves. "Narcissa isn't sick, Draco. She's sad."

He lay his head against the back of the chair, shut his eyes and sighed.

"I left because I had to."

"Why?" she asked gently.

"There was no reason to stay."

"Because Narcissa had come here?"

"Yes."

Draco leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands in front of him.

"Harry put his life on hold for me and Narcissa. I was so afraid to tell him that I was pregnant that night, I even nearly terminated the pregnancy. He'd saved my life, and my mother's, and all I knew was that I was about to ruin his."

Hermione conjured two cups of tea and handed him one, which he took with a small smile of gratitude.

"It took him a while to understand how it happened, but I think that was more just his ignorance of how pregnancy potions work. I couldn't fault him for that, not really. I thought for sure that he was going to chuck me out on the streets after deciding that he didn't really care what happened to me or this freak accident of a baby." He laughed harshly and took a long sip of cocoa before continuing. "I never told him, but I only had enough money for one more night at The Leaky Cauldron. Most of our money was taken for war reparations, and I used what little Mother and I had left to bury her next to my father. I was at his doorstep two weeks later."

"I remember," Hermione said softly, not wanting to break Draco's sudden willingness to talk.

"I have no idea what I would have done if he hadn't taken me in. Tried to find Pansy, maybe. But Harry came through. He always does."

Draco went quiet for several moments, and Hermione idly wondered what Harry was thinking as he listened.

"Next thing I knew, the few possessions that I had left at The Leaky Cauldron were being moved into the spare room at Grimmauld Place that I'd been using since that first night, and he was telling me how we were going to make it work."

"Once Harry gets his mind set on something…"

"You're not kidding," Draco laughed, this time with a definite fondness beneath it, "he was picking out colours for the nursery the next day."

"So when did you fall in love with him?"

Draco's head shot up at that and he looked at her, mouth slightly agape, torn between disbelief at her accusation and relief that someone besides himself knew and maybe, just maybe, he could commiserate with someone, even if that someone was Granger.

"I knew in fifth year, if you must know," he finally said.

"And you never said anything until the night of the party?"

"I didn't say anything then, either. And I was a bit too busy letting Death Eaters into the school and trying to kill Dumbledore so that my parents wouldn't be tortured and murdered, if you'll recall."

"If you never said anything, how did… _that_ even end up happening?"

"What, the shagging?"

Hermione nodded.

"Pansy dared us to kiss during that insipid game, and after the party broke, Harry chased me down the Slytherin corridor and damn near accosted me. We were both pretty blitzed, and one thing led to another, and…" he waved his hand nonchalantly, taking a sip of his tea.

"Why didn't you ever say anything after you moved into Grimmauld Place?"

"I didn't want him to feel obligated," Draco said quickly, setting his cup down gently on the table.

"Harry doesn't do anything he doesn't want to do. You of all people should know that, Draco."

"It would have complicated things."

Hermione didn't stifle her laugh. "On the contrary, I think it would have simplified things immensely!"

Draco gave her a half-hearted glare, but she could tell she'd hit a nerve.

"It's too late for all that now."

"I don't think it is."

Draco ran a hand through his hair wearily, but Hermione didn't relent.

"He cares about you. I'd even wager that he loves you, but the stubborn git is just too oblivious for his own good sometimes. It's obvious the attraction is there - Harry wasn't as drunk as you seem to recall that night, because if he was, nothing would have happened anyway," she chuckled quietly.

"Draco, you have a child together. You two share a bond that nothing can ever break, and despite all your attempts to push him away because you think he's got no use for you now that Narcissa spends most of the year at Hogwarts-" she raised a hand at the objection that Draco was about to make, "-he still needs you."

"He doesn't."

"If I had a pensieve, I'd show you the memory of the night that Harry came to tell me that you were leaving. He was devastated, Draco, and the cruel things that you said to him to try and make him hate you didn't work."

"It was the right thing to do!" Draco insisted. "Harry has spent his whole life having everything mapped out for him, things would have never worked out between us," he continued, standing and shoving his hands in his pockets, clearly agitated, "and he would have expected me to leave once Narcissa was out of the house anyway! I wasn't going to sit there and wait for him to ask me to leave!"

Hermione saw movement at the doorway and opened her mouth to reply, but Harry beat her to it.

"Draco, that wouldn't have happened."

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

Harry sat alone in Hermione's office, biting his nails. She'd gone to look for Draco after he nearly ran out, and he didn't envy her the rage that she would face when Draco figured out what she had done.

All that he could think about, however, was Draco admitting that he loved him - had been in love with him for years, and yet he never knew.

Or maybe part of him had always known.

Deciding to be a parent with Draco was an easy choice to make. Getting over the shock of finding out that Draco was pregnant was harder. It took him nearly two weeks to finally accept it after Draco told him about what had happened with the spiked champagne at the party that resulted in their one-time tryst. Blaise Zabini, in his morally reprehensible scheme to trap Lavender Brown into marriage, had spiked one of the bottles of champagne with a pregnancy potion, intent on sealing the deal with her after he'd gotten her well and truly sloshed. What Zabini hadn't counted on, however, was an even drunker Draco Malfoy grabbing the bottle from his hands and downing nearly a third of it in one swallow.

If Zabini had known that an hour later, after a rather raunchy game of Truth Or Dare in the Room of Requirement - their last night ever at Hogwarts - that Draco would be flat on his back with his knees up by his ears, Harry Potter pounding into him at a remarkable pace, he would have taken a moment to warn Draco not to engage in any form of copulation for at least twenty-four hours. The potion cared not if the person who drank it was female or male - it created the means to fertilize and carry a child, and two months later, Draco confirmed exactly that after five tests by five different Healers.

After Draco blurted on that rainy night at Grimmauld Place that he was pregnant, Harry was fairly sure that it was either a fantastically bad joke, or some nefarious plot by Voldemort from beyond the grave and Draco would be giving birth to Tom Riddle Junior to ruin his life all over again.

Two weeks after Draco's revelation, Harry caught him crying for the second time in his life - this time, in the spare bedroom where Harry had let him stay. It was then that he finally believed that no, it wasn't a joke or plot to ruin his life. It was just the result of yet another hasty, poorly thought out decision that he'd made, albeit a wee bit tipsy at the time, that was going to have eighteen years worth of consequences. A consequence that had a name, and ten tiny fingers and toes, but a consequence nonetheless.

That same night, Harry told Draco that he was moving him into Grimmauld Place, and that they would raise the baby together. They could live their own lives, date other people, do whatever they like, but they would both be parents to their child and that was that. No son or daughter of his was going to pay the price for his own stupid judgment, or lack thereof.

Truth be told, he was rather excited about the prospect of starting a family, even as unconventional as this one was going to be.

Six months later, he held his daughter Narcissa for the first time, Draco having named her after his late mother and the woman that saved both his and Harry's life.

He and Draco had made a formidable team as parents, quickly learning each other's habits and breaking points. They were both happy, or so Harry had thought. The first signs of tension didn't start to show until Harry told Draco after dinner one night when Narcissa was three years old that he and Ginny were going on a date. Draco had only responded with a terse ' _Good for you_ ,' and left the room, leaving a sudden coldness in his wake.

A week later, Draco had told him over breakfast that he was never to bring one of his dates into their home, because he didn't want Narcissa to get confused when and if their chosen partners suddenly disappeared. Harry thought that it was reasonable enough, and agreed.

When Harry and Ginny broke things off two months after that, Draco's mood suddenly improved.

He didn't date a lot, only having had four different girlfriends over the course of their living arrangement. Draco didn't like any of them, either. Harry didn't even tell Draco about the last person he dated, which was just as well seeing as how that one had lasted all of one month. A tiny thought festered in the back of his mind that the reason why he had kept it a secret from Draco was because that person was a man - Xavier from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office at the Ministry.

That was over a year ago, and he hadn't thought about dating since.

It hadn't escaped his notice that Draco hadn't dated anyone since living at Grimmauld Place, but Harry assumed it was more to do with Narcissa than anything else.

But after hearing the conversation between Hermione and Draco, maybe, Harry thought, _he_ was that something.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

"He's in with Narcissa," Hermione said as she walked back into her office. "I'd give him some space if I were you."

"I'm surprised that you're not limping."

"Draco's all bark, you know that," she smirked, leaning against her desk and crossing her arms across her chest.

Harry picked up Draco's discarded cup of tea, long since gone cold, and took a sip. He grimaced at the overly acidic taste, and set it back down.

"That was a dirty trick, Hermione."

"I'm tired of watching you two play the denial game," she answered, making herself comfortable on the arm of his chair and ruffling his hair affectionately, "and failing."

"You really think it's our fault?" he looked up at her.

Hermione's heart hurt at the look of shame that clouded his eyes.

"I think that she needs you to be with him as much as you need to be with him."

"I don't know how I feel about him," he signed, leaning back, his position mirroring Draco's from just an hour earlier.

"I know that you're attracted to him."

"I've never really thought of him like that."

"You obviously did twelve years ago."

"I was drunk," he grumbled.

"Not that drunk."

"He's…nice to look at," Harry said, voice barely above a whisper, "but he drives me absolutely insane, Hermione. He always has to have everything _just so_ ," he added, sneering, "and God forbid I leave a wet towel laying around on the bathroom floor. And don't even get me started on what he's like before he eats breakfast in the morning."

"I'm sure you're Mister Wonderful all the time, too."

"Hermione-"

"Just give it a chance. That's all I'm saying."

Harry took her hand in his, giving it an affectionate squeeze as the silence stretched out between them.

"He does have his moments."

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

"Hey."

Draco didn't respond. His back was turned toward the door as Harry walked toward Narcissa's bed, and Harry knew that Draco likely wouldn't want to look at him - he never did when he was feeling vulnerable.

Harry took a moment to take notice of the fact that he knew Draco well enough to realise that.

"You should get some sleep. It's my turn anyway," Harry offered as he walked closer toward them.

"I'm not tired."

"Draco-"

"Just go, Potter."

"It's Harry."

"What?" Draco asked, his tone sharp as he finally turned to face him.

"It always used to be 'Harry' until you left. I don't like being called Potter."

Draco stood up, cast a Silencing Charm over Narcissa's bed, and closed the distance between them. Harry could practically feel his anger and humiliation, but didn't back away.

"And I don't like people listening to my private conversations," Draco sneered, poking Harry hard in the chest with his finger.

"That wasn't my fault."

"You sure as hell didn't stop me from running my mouth - to _Granger_ , of all people - before you heard what you wanted to hear, though, did you?"

"Well, maybe I needed to hear it! Maybe you should have tried talking to _me_ a long time ago before making your stupid assumptions about what you think I do or don't need!" Harry shot back, shoving Draco's shoulder with more force than he'd intended.

"And maybe _you_ should stop being such an oblivious _prick_ all the time and take notice of what's been in front of your _stupid_ , smug little face the past twelve years!" Draco spat, shoving Harry back with equal force.

"If you didn't keep yourself so tightly wound up all the damn time, maybe I _would have_ gotten that clue - instead you decide to tell me I'm a crap father one day because I _have a job_ -"

"A job that could get you _killed_!"

"I haven't gotten anything worse than a Burning Hex the entire time I've been an Auror!"

"Sure, _so far_!"

Their yelling had escalated to a high enough volume that Hermione discreetly warded off the area while walking toward her private rooms adjacent to her office as they continued to argue. It was nearly two in the morning, but she was used to keeping such hours. She did nothing to stop their fight. It was a long time coming, and she knew they both needed this release. She only hoped that, come morning, there would be a modicum of peace between the two.

"I'm not a bloody mind reader, Draco, how was I to know?"

"You _weren't_ , that was the point!" Draco shoved him again.

"And maybe I would have _wanted_ to!"

This time, Harry shoved Draco hard enough to cause him to stumble, and just before Draco fell backwards, Harry reached for him. It was too late, however, and Draco tumbled to the floor, dragging Harry unwittingly with him as they fell in a tangled heap on the floor next to Narcissa's bed. Harry heard Draco's head crack against the cold stone floor, and instantly started babbling apologies.

"Draco! Are you all right? God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

Draco groaned, lifting his head far enough to gingerly touch the back of his scalp and check for blood - it was dry, but he was going to have one hell of a lump by morning.

"I am so, _so_ sorry, Draco, let me look-"

"You're crushing me," Draco gasped.

Harry rose up on his hands and knees, but wasn't letting Draco up from the floor until he knew for sure that he was okay.

"Just let me look at your head," he pleaded.

" _Dammit_ , Harry-" Draco started to say as he reached his arms behind him to gain leverage and lift himself up off the floor.

But it wasn't pain that stopped him from talking - it was the fabric that was brushing against his fingers.

Fabric that had made his fingers _disappear_.

"What? What's wrong? Are you going to faint?"

"Look," Draco whispered, his gaze glued to his hand.

Harry followed his gaze to where Draco's hand lay, half gone, on the floor just under Narcissa's bed. He pulled on what he knew could only be his own invisibility cloak - something he'd entrusted to his daughter the night before her first day of her second year - and held his breath as he continued to pull the cloak into his lap.

"Well, fuck me," Draco exhaled.

Underneath the cloak was a familiar burgundy box with two large 'W's embossed on the top and sides. Harry didn't need to open the lid to know what was inside. They both had seen them often enough during their years at Hogwarts.

Skiving Snackboxes.

Hermione was half right. Narcissa was indeed making herself sick, but not because of stress.

Harry finally leaned back, sitting on his heels as Draco moved to sit up, and lifted the lid by one corner, confirming what they both already knew.

Empty wrappers littered the entire top level of what they knew to be a triple layer case. Harry reached for the bit of cardboard that revealed the second layer, which only had two Snackboxes left.

Both Harry and Draco turned to look at the other, neither knowing what to say. Narcissa still lay blissfully asleep mere inches from them, cocooned in both her blankets and a silencing charm.

"Harry," Draco started, but didn't know how to continue.

"I know."

They both just sat, looking at one another, their eyes saying what their mouths couldn't.

The impact of what their daughter had resorted to hit Harry like a truckload of bricks. She had made herself repeatedly sick. She made the conscious decision to continue doing it, even after everything she'd already put her poor little body through, and all because she wanted her parents to commiserate together over her sickbed and - he was positive of this - decide that they were better off together than apart.

Looking into Draco's sad eyes, he saw the same revelation reflected back at him.

Draco started to open his mouth to speak, but stopped when he heard Narcissa start to stir. He looked over at her, watching her face scrunch up in the adorable way it always did when she first rouses from sleep, and, for the first time in his life, had no idea what to do or say.

Harry solved the problem, however, by quickly stashing the invisibility cloak back under the bed, grabbing Draco by the back of the neck, turning his face toward him, and crashing their mouths together in a near-painful kiss just as Narcissa started to open her eyes.

Draco froze, eyes wide open and seeing nothing but Harry, _tasting_ nothing but Harry. His lips were firm against his own, Harry's tongue unrelenting as it sought entrance to his mouth - and what choice did he have, really, but to give in?

Neither of them heard the soft gasp of the girl on the bed beside them, both lost in a kiss that started off as harsh and unforgiving, but was quickly turning into something far more tender - loving, even. Harry's hand moved from the back of his neck to the curve of his jaw as the kiss deepened, and when Draco tilted his head to the side to give Harry better access, he took full advantage. Draco raised both his hands, cupping Harry's face as they continued to kiss.

Harry broke contact when he heard his daughter stifle a giggle, staring hard at Draco before he turned away and trying not to be distracted by just how good that kiss was. _Please just trust me_ , his eyes pleaded, and when Draco looked down into his lap, he took that as permission to say what he was about to say to their deviously Slytherin daughter.

"Your dad is moving back into Grimmauld Place with us," he started, holding up a hand as she opened her mouth to speak and giving her a stern look.

"We'll discuss your punishment later," he continued, ignoring her obvious shock as the excited twinkle in her eyes faded away, "but I understand why you did what you did, and that's all we're going to say on the matter tonight."

He looked back to Draco for confirmation, and was slightly taken aback by the similar look of shock on his face that matched his daughter's. He saw Draco swallow thickly, trying to gain back his composure, and slowly reached his hand up to cup Draco's jaw.

"Is that all right with you?" Harry asked quietly.

"Okay," Draco answered, eyes still slightly glassy from the shock of both the kiss and Harry's decision.

There was a knot of unease growing in his stomach, however, and wasn't going to ignore it.

"Narcissa," Draco said, smoothing down her hair as her lower lip trembled, "go back to sleep, and we'll all talk in the morning."

"Are you mad at me?" she asked, shiny, fearful eyes going back and forth between them.

"No," they both said in unison.

"We'll sort things out in the morning," Draco added, "over breakfast."

He knelt down to her bedside and grabbed both the cloak and the half-empty box of Skiving Snackboxes. Narcissa pulled her covers up to her chin and shuddered, the weight of what it meant for her parents to have found out her scheme starting to press against her.

Harry leaned over and kissed her forehead, trying to give reassurance that he understood.

"We love you, now go back to sleep."

She nodded and closed her eyes, but both Harry and Draco knew that she would lie there, feigning sleep, as she fretted about what would happen in the morning. Harry nodded in Draco's direction, and Draco flicked his wand over her, neither of them moving until they saw the signs of sleep taking over.

"Are _you_ mad at me?" Harry asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Draco sighed in response, moving toward the bed he had occupied earlier in the day and sitting down.

"I think that we should talk about this in the morning as well," he said, not looking at Harry even as he heard him walking over toward the bed.

"I know that I should have asked you first, but…I just…" Harry began, not quite sure how to say what he wanted to say.

"The kiss was a bit much, don't you think?" Draco said, still refusing to look up.

"I thought that it would make her happy."

Draco did look up at that, brow furrowed in frustrated confusion.

"Make her _happy_? Harry, she damn near ended up in St. Mungo's because of us, and you think that a one-time kiss is going to solve everything? That my moving in with you this summer is going to make everything all right again?"

Harry sat down next to Draco, close enough that their thighs were touching, and felt a small triumph at the fact that Draco didn't move away.

"I'd like you to move back now, actually, and who said it was just a one-time thing?"

Draco gave a bitter laugh in response.

"I miss you," Harry said, his voice small.

Draco shifted nervously next to him.

"I want to try, Draco."

"I'm not going to be your experiment."

"Don't you think that we've shared too much for you to merely be an experiment?"

Draco didn't answer, but started fidgeting with the hem of the pillowcase next to him.

"Please look at me."

When Draco didn't move, Harry moved his hand to Draco's chin, gently turned it toward him, and waited for those grey eyes to meet his own.

"You're not the only one who felt unwanted, Draco."

"I don't see how that's even remotely poss-" Draco started to say, but was stopped by soft lips against his own.

Harry picked up where they'd left off before, Draco making the most amazing little noises as he submitted to the kiss. It was slow and tentative, searching for answers to questions that neither of them even knew just yet. Harry knew that they had time, however, and as he pulled away, he wanted Draco to know it, too.

"When we leave here tomorrow, I want Narcissa to know that she's still got her family, and I want to try, if you'll let me. I know we've bollocksed things up, but it's nothing that can't be fixed, right?"

Draco shrugged noncommittally, his mind still a bit dazed from Harry's kiss.

"We have the rest of the school year to work out the details, and I'd like you back in our home while we figure things out."

"And what if we fail? What is that going to do to her?"

"We'll handle it differently. There'll be no lying to hurt the other person just to push them away," he said, pointedly looking at Draco.

"And what about your job? I'm not about to enter into a relationship with you and be the only active participant because you're too busy chasing bad guys around the country at all hours of the day and night."

"I put in my notice last week."

Draco didn't try to hide his shock.

" _What_? Why?"

"We caught Dolohov," Harry said, grimacing slightly at the memory of the fight that the former Death Eater had put up when cornered. "Part of the reason why I even became an Auror was to keep Narcissa safe. And you," he added. "I knew that I was still a target when I signed up for training, but I wanted to do _something_. It's over now, and I'm tired."

"Harry-"

"I'll find something else. A regular nine-to-five job, and I'll be there for you and Narcissa."

Draco was on the verge of agreeing, but fear held him back. Harry was finally - _finally_ \- offering him what he'd been coveting for years, practically giving himself on a silver platter, and yet Draco's paranoid nature was tugging at his gut, a dozen disastrous scenarios running through his mind.

"Please. Try with me."

"A lot has happened, Harry."

"I know, believe me I know. But maybe…maybe what Narcissa did was fate's way of telling us to pull our shit together and just…just take this chance we're being given."

"Since when do you believe in fate?" Draco asked skeptically.

Harry took Draco's hands in his.

"Since the day you showed up on my doorstep and told me you were going to have our baby."

"Oh."

"Please?" Harry whispered.

Draco looked into those earnest green eyes, and the battle was over.

"Okay."

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

_Five years later…_

"Papa! Daddy! I'm home!"

Narcissa shut the front door of Grimmauld Place behind her, shivering from the cold and snow outside as she unwound the scarf from around her neck.

"In here, pumpkin," she heard from the closed door across the way that led to the kitchen.

She removed her winter cloak, hanging it up on the stand next to the door. She smoothed out her dark green velvet dress, the one her dad had bought her especially for the occasion. Christmas was always a huge affair in their home, and Draco always gifted her with a new dress every year on the day before she'd leave Hogwarts to come home for the holidays.

What she didn't know was that the dresses were always taken from the collection of dresses that Draco's own mother had worn on Christmases when he was a child. She was nearly eighteen now, and had grown into a near carbon copy of her grandmother. The trunk full of holiday dresses was the last possession of his mother's that he had, and he had brought it with him, shrunken in his pocket, on the night he turned up on Harry's doorstep oh so many moons ago.

Narcissa came through the kitchen door, and was immediately barreled into by the three-foot tall blur that was her little brother.

"Cissy!"

Narcissa laughed, reaching down to lift him up and settled him against her hip.

"You're early," Harry said, grinning and walking over to her and enveloping her in a tight embrace.

"Hi Papa," she smiled back as James toyed with the ribbon in her hair.

"How was the train?" Draco asked, kissing her on the cheek and wiping his hands on the dishtowel that was tucked into the belt of his trousers.

"Ugh, way too congested. I think every single student went home for Christmas this year."

Narcissa stuck her tongue out playfully at her brother, his giggle filling the kitchen.

"Smells amazing in here, what's for dinner?"

"Ham and turkey pie," Harry answered, managing three pots on the stove as Draco placed a basket of bread on the table.

"And birthday cake!" James shouted.

"Oh, it is someone's birthday?" Narcissa teased.

"Mine! Mine!"

"Are you sure?"

"Cissy!"

Narcissa laughed at his fake pout, ruffling his dark hair as she set him down on the corner of the kitchen table.

"Where's my present?"

"James," Harry scolded lightly, "give your sister time to get in the door before you start demanding gifts."

"We're eating dinner before we open gifts, young man." Draco added.

Narcissa stood back and took in the scene before her. Harry at the counter, spooning out mashed potatoes into a bowl as Draco set out the silverware. James was playing with a tiny red train, running it along the wood grain of the empty end of the kitchen table as though they were tracks. The wizarding wireless was playing in the background, soft choral Christmas music filling the long, narrow room. Draco turned to help Harry at the counter, and she watched them share a secret smile just before Harry leaned over and kissed Draco's cheek.

She walked over to the large mantle above the fireplace, lighting the candles and straightened the frame containing a photograph of her parents on their wedding day, both of them smiling back at her as they clung to one another.

It was good to be home.

_fini_

 


End file.
